


Written In Reverse

by Stardust_Steel



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Character Death, Elements, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, I'm inverting everything, Intrigue, M/M, Political Alliances, Prompt: Fantasy, Saiyan Culture, War epic, kakavegeweek2021, oh boy here we go again, prompt: Prison AU, slow burn so slow you wouldn't even feel the heat, tumblr: kakavegeweek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29994813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardust_Steel/pseuds/Stardust_Steel
Summary: Goku stared at the rebel before him, mind reeling. “Why - how - I thought all from the Vegeta line died out years ago-”“You would know all about that wouldn’t you, Prince Kakarot?” Vegeta drawled. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”Prompt: Prison AU and Fantasy
Relationships: Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 38
Collections: Kakavege week #10





	Written In Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> FIRST OF ALL - HAPPY KAKAVEGEWEEK 2021!!! This fandom is about to EXPLODE with amazing stuff from many many creators- writers, artists, mixed media - get ready for incredible content from everyone :D
> 
> Big thanks and love to dbzkink, drfumblesmcstupid and RisingWing for giving this a onceover and encouraging me that it was worth continuing :3
> 
> This is very loosely inspired by the Fireborne trilogy by Rosario Munda, and by loosely I mean the history bit :3

“Prince Goku, we have an urgent situation back at the palace. I need you to come back with me immediately.”

“What?” Goku relaxed his stance, dropping out of the kata he’d been trying. “How urgent?”

Cabba’s explanation was to grab Goku by the arm and whisk them to the palace at top speed.

* * *

The elevator that took Goku beneath the basement levels of the palace opened to a narrow corridor. It served as bunker in the days of the Rebellion, but these days it was a ki-barricade dungeon where Planet Vegeta isolated their most dangerous -- if not influential -- political prisoners, Cabba explained. It was Goku’s first time down here.

“Sorry to drag you out like this, your highness,” Cabba apologised, ignoring the face Goku made at the title of address. “Our prisoner - we think he’s a spy for the rebel faction, or something- is refusing to speak to anyone who isn’t Saiyan royal blood, and the King is tail-deep in negotiations with the council.”

“It really can’t wait till he’s done?” King Bardock was always much better at handling these kinds of things than Goku was.

“Unfortunately, no. This is one of our more . . . important guests,” Cabba said, a hard line forming on his mouth. 

Something ticked in Goku’s brain. “Important… how?”

Cabba’s eyes flickered away. “You’ll see. He just won't talk to us.”

"Okay, and...You really think he'll talk to me?"

“Probably not,” Cabba shrugged, as they came to a stop in front of a metal slab of a door marked “7”. “But it’s worth a shot. I’ve seen you make friends with a houseplant.”

Goku returned the smile half-heartedly, and squared himself to face this latest enigma.

The low light of the prison made it hard for Goku to see anything beyond his silhouette. As Goku stepped inside, the shadowed figure turned his head to look at Goku. “You’re not the King.”

“No, but I’m here to listen to what you have to say,” Goku ventured. 

“Fire whoever chose your clothes. There. That’s all I have to say.”

Goku shrugged. “I’d have to fire myself then.” 

“My point stands.”

Well, at least this guy was witty. As Goku walked over to the square table bolted to the centre of the room, more of the stranger’s features came into view. A proud profile, high cheekbones, sharp jawline. The navy prison jumpsuit he wore was at least two sizes too big, hanging baggily off a small frame. 

Goku’s heart stopped.

“You’re -a Vegeta,” he realized.

“I **_am_ ** Vegeta,” Vegeta haughtily corrected. “Vegeta the fourth.”

His tone was haughty like the prince he wasn’t. There was no mistaking that flame shaped spike that crowned his head, nor the red streak unique to the Vegeta line. 

Goku shook his head, tail twitching. “Why - how - ” He swallowed. “I thought all from the Vegeta line were dead.” They died out with the bloodthirsty tyrant King Vegeta III of ThunderClan. At least, that was what the history books said. 

“You and your father would know all about that wouldn’t you? And yet, here I am.” Charcoal eyes pinned Goku in place, contempt so deep it would drown a lesser Saiyan. “A pleasure to meet you, _Your Highness._ ”

Goku wasn’t sure he agreed. His tail twitched again.

Vegeta’s eyes followed the motion. His growing smirk looking _way_ too damn pleased. Goku couldn’t resist “Well, I’d say the same, but you’re too short to earn the title.”

“-You!” The shift in from languid, cool contempt to ire was so quick it almost gave Goku whiplash. He grinned at Vegeta, pleased to have found a trigger button to play on.

Except Vegeta caught on to this, too. Quickly as it came, the storm passed. The other Saiyan raised an eyebrow at Goku. “What a _low_ blow,” Vegeta quipped. “I’d have thought that was _above_ someone with your rank.”

Goku couldn’t help it- he had to laugh. “Definitely above yours…” Poke the Oozaru a little more... “in height at least.” 

Vegeta’s jaw tightened but he didn’t take the bait. An unimpressed glare came Goku’s way. “I cannot believe this,” he muttered. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an immature brat?”

“Yeah, sorry, you’re not my first,” Goku quipped back. He was rewarded with a flush. Interesting. So it was safe to assume this Vegeta was quick to anger and pretty uptight about some things. Goku wasn’t a manipulative person by nature but being a prince of a warrior race meant picking up some skills- like how to read the enemy.

But ...was Vegeta an enemy? His very existence raised a lot of questions Goku wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers to.

“You would know all about being first, wouldn’t you,” Vegeta drawled. It made Goku’s skin crawl. “Does it feel good to sit on a throne of deceit, _Prince_ Kakarot?”

Goku squirmed involuntarily. Vegeta’s eyes gleamed with interest- Goku had seen that look before - it was the look of a predator filing away weaknesses he could use. Oh well, he’d given himself away. “My name is Goku.”

Vegeta frowned. “No it isn’t.” 

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes it is!”

“No, it isn’t. That’s not what the books said.”

“The history book said you were dead,” Goku pointed out. “They were wrong.”

“My life mission is to prove everyone wrong,” Vegeta announced.

“...Have to say you’ve got a pretty good start.”

Vegeta’s bark of startled laughter was... nice to hear. Surprisingly nice to hear. Dangerously nice to hear. Something fluttered in Goku’s chest, at the same time that Vegeta’s expression shifted to a glower. “No, I will not allow this. You’re a Saiyan,” Vegeta insisted, “and Goku is not a Saiyan name.”

“But it’s **my** name,” Goku defended. What was it with this one...

“Well, my pride will not allow my family line - the proud ThunderClan- to be desecrated by someone with a name as stupid as Goku,” Vegeta told him flatly. “So you are Kakarot to me.”

Goku made a face. “You’re not very nice.”

“I didn't come here to be nice,” Vegeta snapped. His tail, up until then tucked away under his clothes, was now lashing back and forth. “I demand to speak to the King, not his fresh-faced, immature idiot child. I demand you bring him to me now.”

Goku ignored the jibe. “We’re in the middle of a war, so King Bardock is busy with other, er, things. He can’t come see every prisoner… but you can tell me whatever you want to talk to him about, and I’ll deliver it.” 

The next moment, Vegeta was in his face. “Have you no _shame_?” Vegeta hissed. “After what your _deceitful_ _family_ did to the Vegeta line, the least your _precious King_ can do is grant me an audience with himself, don’t you think?”

Goku didn’t give ground, but he did lean away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Then find out, fool,” Vegeta snarled. “Don’t believe everything history books tell you.”

This Vegeta was fierce. He looked ready to throw hands, get his gloved fingers bloody. 

Goku’s blood positively _raced_ at the thought of fighting him. He’d never met someone so ready to challenge the crown prince. 

But now was not the time for such desires. 

***

“And then what happened?”

“And then I passed the message on to my Father. The end,” Goku finished.

“And what did King Bardock say?” Cabba asked, clearly fascinated.

“He just looked at me weird, and told me he’d deal with it later,” Goku replied. “Ordered me to stay out of it, and for anyone and everyone involved to keep it quiet.” Goku and Bardock weren’t close, but he knew his father well enough to know later tended to mean never, unless the kingdom was about to blow. 

Cabba leaned back. “It’s so strange. I thought the Vegeta line died out years and years ago. King Vegeta III had no record of any heirs.”

“That’s what I thought too.” Goku shrugged, thinking back to the burning eyes, the flame-shaped spikes streaked in red, the auburn tail. “But that’s clearly not true.”

**_Does it feel good to sit on a throne of deceit?_ **

“You should have seen the face of the guards who caught him,” Cabba remarked.

Something ticked. “How did he get caught?” Goku asked slowly. His impression of Vegeta was that the Saiyan was not someone to have gone down quietly. “He’s tough like Oozaru claws. I don’t think it would have been an easy fight.” 

“It wasn’t,” Cabba replied. “Much of a fight, I mean.” Goku frowned, already opening his mouth to ask. “He just sort of walked in straight to the middle of the palace courtyard and demanded to see the King. Didn’t even name himself. When they laughed at him, he started threatening other Saiyans and throwing punches. It caused quite the ruckus.”

Well, Goku’s judgment on Vegeta being the reckless kind had been right, it seemed. “What did he think was going to happen? Of course he was going to get … captured…”

Goku’s words trailed off, realization hitting him like a Blutz wave. _He did it on purpose_.

If Vegeta could get as far as the courtyard with its heavy guard and technological barriers, why didn’t he just drop into the King’s courtroom?

Goku’s instincts were raging. What he’d seen of the Saiyan in the cell made him certain -Vegeta wasn’t the kind of guy who would be captured unless he wanted it to happen.

...And King Bardock’s reaction had been interesting, to say the least.

“Your Highness?” Cabba was watching Goku expectantly, albeit with some wariness. Being childhood friends meant he was well used to the ways the prince’s thoughts could go on a tangent.

“... don’t mind me, Cabba.” Goku smiled, even as his mind began to sharpen down a route.

* * *

Bardock sat back to study this curiosity before him. The last time he’d met Vegeta, he’d been a little cub who had barely reached up to his knee in height. The present time one was probably barely into his saiyan teenhood. 

Spiky hair in the form of a flame, streaked in red. Burning eyes that captured you and drew you in. Bardock remembered those eyes well. The only difference was King Vegeta the third had been much closer to Bardock’s height than the lithe, lean figure that was his son, Prince Vegeta the fourth.

Vegeta the fourth, Bardock corrected himself. Not Prince.

“Has it talked back yet?”

Vegeta the fourth raised an eyebrow.

“You looked like you were having a particularly intense conversation with the wall, though I’m guessing it was one-sided,” Bardock continued, tone mild.

Vegeta stared at him flatly. 

Bardock had enough of this silence. “It isn’t everyday the King of all Saiyans deigns to meet with a low level rebel prisoner.” That got a reaction, finally, as Vegeta's eye twitched. “You demanded to speak with me, so speak.”

“You’re just as unamusing as I remember.” The next words were a sneer. “Your Majesty.”

“And you’re just as serious a cub as I remember, _Vegeta_ ,” Bardock countered, dropping the title. “But still just as reckless, I see.”

Burning eyes became an inferno. “I was tired of waiting,” Vegeta said. “You are no King, Bardock. Your throne is one of deceit.”

Brave, fiery words. Yet Vegeta’s tail stayed wrapped tight around his waist, a surefire indication that the Saiyan in question didn’t feel safe in his surroundings.

“Leaping straight into the fire, I see,” Bardock mused. “But then, I shouldn’t know to expect anything else from a Saiyan of ThunderClan.”

Vegeta scowled. “As if FireClan is any different.”

Bardock hummed. That was true to be honest. This Vegeta had the same upstart recklessness he could see in his own son. They would probably be troublemakers together, he could just see it. “Why are you here, Vegeta?”

“The hell do you mean? Your guards threw me in here.”

“They wouldn’t have, if you didn’t stride in like an Oozaru running wild,” Bardock pointed out. “You know what I mean. Why now, of all times? Everyone thought all of Thunderclan were dead.”

Vegeta met Bardock’s gaze head on, baring his fangs. “Except you. You knew I was alive.”

“I did,” Bardock allowed. 

“And? Is that all you have to say?”

Bardock wasn’t easily cowed - one couldn’t be, if you were to lead a warrior race - but something about Vegeta’s accusing, burning eyes compelled him to say more. “Your father would have led us all to destruction.”

“My father was trying to maintain our honour,” Vegeta hissed. His tail had finally unraveled and was now lashing about wildly. “Unlike you. You are turning the Saiyans into little more than murderers. It disgusts me.”

“I am trying to keep us alive, until we can find a better way to live,” Bardock countered. “You may disagree, but the fact is you are alive to begin with.”

“Excuses,” Vegeta spat at him. “Tell me, Bardock, every time you have to face Lord Cooler, do you have to fight to suppress the urge to punch him? Or does it feel good to bow and obey his every wish.”

“Do you think your father could have done better?”

Instead of answering the question directly, Vegeta proudly lifted his head. “ ** _I_ **can,” he declared, “And I will.” Despite the cell being designed to block ki to its target, Bardock could feel the walls sizzling with static.

Bardock eyed the feisty rebel before him with renewed interest. Hmm. To be able to channel energy past the limitations imposed by the most advanced technology the Saiyans had. This Vegeta was powerful, likely more than his predecessor had been.

“Is that what you’re after, then? You want to try to wrestle the throne back from me?”

“There is no try about it, Bardock.” Vegeta’s eyes glittered. “I will succeed. Your guards are already spreading news across the city- soon it will reach the other clans, and then you will have questions to answer.”

Bardock hummed. He had to admit, for a teen with no experience of war, it was a fair strategy. He probably should have been alarmed, but he wasn’t. He had started out as a scientist before working his way up to become the leader of FireClan. The way of Fire was to to expand and fill gaps in the spaces in between.

The way of Thunder was to dominate and destroy. Dangerous in the wrong hands, but a battlefield changer in the right one. Vegeta could be a useful asset.

“What if I could offer you something better?”

Vegeta scowled. “What could you possibly offer me that is better than the throne?”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t want my responsibilities,” Barcok answered wryly. He leaned forward. “I propose to cut a deal.”

***

They finished their discussion around the time the sun reached its zenith. Bardock was about ready to leave, when Vegeta’s final question stopped him in his tracks.

“Your youngest.” Bardock stopped. “Why does he call himself Goku?”

Consideration was the space of a breath. “That is not something for me to answer,” Bardock declined. “You may ask him yourself… should you choose to accept my proposal.”

King Bardock turned away, the memory of Vegeta’s calculating, thoughtful eyes seared into his mind.

* * *

*****Flashback*****

King Vegeta of ThunderClan had been known as the leader of the bloodiest revolution the Saiyans had ever seen.

Later, King Bardock of FireClan would be known as the First Guardian, and under his vision the Saiyan kingdom would transform. Saiyan mortality rate fell massively. His people stopped fearing their goodbyes would be their last one. They had to always dance around keeping the Kold Empire and Lord Cooler happy, but it was worth it.

He never doubted that he would create a just city. Nor did he doubt that the families of the old regime deserved to die. But he did, sometimes, regret the way it happened, the day the palace was finally overrun. 

“Stop this foolishness at once!” Bardock roared, when he found the previous King. The revolutionaries let go of the eldest prince whom they had been hurting, and began to protest: don’t you know what he’s done—but they fell silent when Vegeta the third spoke up from his knees on the bloodstained carpet.

“My sons,” he said, in the language he and the First Guardian shared, back when they had been playmates and cubs with no thoughts of the war unfolding around them. “Bardock, Vegeta and Tarble have barely lived.” 

The First Guardian glanced at the child, who looked back with burning eyes. His little tail was fluffed up and his tiny fingers were bristling with electricity. The cub was clearly ready for a fight, as he hovered over the prone form of his little brother.

Bardock hesitated for only a second. His place as leader of FireClan wasn’t secured yet - a wrong order given, and he would very easily be ousted for another more unscrupulous leader.

But Bardock would not condone this. As far as the saiyan race had fallen, as far as the Vegeta royal line had gone, he could and would offer them some dignity.

He turned to the biggest guard by physique and murmured an order. The bald soldier -Nappa, he remembered- started, hesitated, then tugged the eldest prince to him.. 

When the boy had been carried, limp and silent, from the room, the leader of the FireClan revolution knelt before the former King, who kept his head high. Proud as ever, not begging for mercy. Bardock’s respect for him grew.

“Bardock -” King Vegeta rasped. “Your vision,” he said. “Do you think it will ever be worth this? Our honour, our dignity as a proud warrior race?” 

Bardock’s head fell, heavy with the weight of something more than the future crown. “Yes,” he said. 

***

The late Vegeta the third’s question returned to Bardock often in the years that followed, as he was forced to court Lord Cooler and his wishes. At least more Saiyans stayed alive.

Even as many of the other details of the Revolution began to fade from his memory, King Bardock remembered King Vegeta the Third, leader of ThunderClan, and his dignified fall.

The little prince with the burning eyes, however, was a detail he forgot… until now.

**Author's Note:**

> This ...started as a one-shot and expanded into a multichapter fic, just as Agent Oblivion did. Whoops X_X Chapter count is just an estimate, it may well expand or contract. Rating WILL change, so get ready for a wild ride. Updates will be biweekly as my main focus will be on the Kakavege Hunger games fic coming up :3 
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts - I love connecting and discussing headcanons and fics and quotes appreciated :3 Thanks for your time reading!
> 
> Also happy KV week again 🧡💙Excited stardust


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